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allmoshnobrain · 4 months

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 24 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3754 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

“Please, Nore. Stay with me,” he pleaded, and I knew he wasn't just talking about that night. Our eyes locked, my heart racing in a completely new way. I'd never felt this way around him before. It used to be so easy, just being with him, talking to him, laughing together. Now, it just felt like all that closeness was no longer enough. I couldn't stand this.

✦ summary: Nore realizes that her own feelings for James are deeper than she had ever allowed herself to imagine.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, jealousy, love triangle, drinking, smoking

✦ a/n: I'm really glad I managed to write a lot of Heartbreaker during my Christmas break and I'm feeling really inspired to write more! Feedbacks are really welcome and motivate me a lot 🖤 Happy 2024 everyone! Hope you liked this part and see you soon :D

✧ If he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed / Looking into his eyes, I think he's already hurt / He's already hurt / I said, "don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi" / Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat / I just wanna dance with you ✧

James and I crossed paths again a few days later, right in the middle of a Wednesday morning. I was knee-deep in organizing the fresh vinyl records that just landed in the store when I caught the sound of someone strolling in. Knowing Pat was holding down the fort at the counter, I figured she'd take care of the customer, no big deal.

So, with my hands full of empty record boxes, I swung back to the front, only to get hit with the surprise of the day: there was James, rocking his old leather jacket and a worn-out denim vest, his blonde locks falling over his shoulders.

At first, he didn't even notice me, just casually chatting with Pat. She was all smiles, an open magazine forgotten in her lap, elbows on the counter, chuckling at whatever he was saying. The sight stirred up an uneasy feeling in my chest; for a moment, I couldn't help but reminisce about how James had hardly looked into my eyes when we first met, how it took us a bit to get close. Now, here he was, flashing a confident grin at a girl he'd only met a few days back, almost as if he were a completely different person.

"Hey, Nore!" Pat beamed when she spotted me, yanking me back from my thoughts. James swung around, a grin lighting up his face. "Look who's here."

"Hi, James." I tossed a greeting his way while depositing the empty boxes in a corner behind the counter. Standing up, I faced him, smiling, and swiped my hair away from my face. "What brings you here? Thought you guys had already hightailed it back to San Francisco."

"Oh, Cliff and Kirk took off already. Lars and I hung around to sort out a few things," he explained, then turned to Pat. "Mind if I borrow your friend for a bit?"

"Only if you pinky swear we'll catch up again soon." She grinned, and he winked, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks with a faint blush before he strolled away. I sighed and trailed after him outside the store.

"So, spill the beans," I asked, leaning against the wall and fishing my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I brought one to my mouth, hunting for my lighter, but James beat me to it; he pulled out a lighter from his jacket, firing it up. I leaned in, getting my cigarette lit before stepping back and locking eyes with him again. "You've been in LA since the weekend and didn't even shoot me a call? And what's the deal with Pat catching up again with you, huh?"

"I told you, band business to sort out," he replied, his face still a bit flushed. "We snagged an extra show, just in case you still care. I swung by to drop off tickets for you two, it's happening this Saturday."

"I never said I could make it," I raised an eyebrow, and he huffed.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Are you on your period or something?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe I'd be a bit more chill if you'd answer my questions instead of pretending you're deaf."

"What question did I dodge?"

"About Pat," I finally blurted out, my face warming, regret hitting me as soon as the words left my mouth. James blinked, looking a bit surprised, and I sighed. I was being dumb, I thought. It's not like he owed me an explanation about what he did with his life.

"We hung out on Monday for drinks. She asked me out after last week's show. That's all," James finally spilled, his tone calmer and gentler than I expected. I raised my eyes, meeting his gaze, the sudden intensity in his eyes making my mouth go dry. "Wasn't anything special anyway."

"I don't care," I shot back, suddenly feeling defensive again. He gave me a puzzled look.

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"Come on, James, just hand over the tickets already."

"Alright, alright," he grunted, pulling two envelopes from his pocket and passing them my way. I tore open one of the envelopes, peeking inside to find the show ticket and that familiar backstage access badge.

"Nore," he called, and I looked up, blushing a bit as I realized he had inched closer, his hand casually resting on the wall beside me. "You don't have to invite her if you don't want to. It can just be you. You know that, right?"

"You said you needed an audience. Can't exactly bring Dave, can I?" I quipped. The mention of Dave seemed to rattle James; he tensed up, pulling away from me and avoiding eye contact with a sigh. I blinked, puzzled by his reaction, my heart racing as I waited for him to say something, anything, but he remained silent. "James..."

"See you on Saturday, alright?" he cut me off, staring at me with a furrowed brow. I just nodded, still too baffled by our weird exchange to spit anything out. He then strolled away, leaving me alone and on edge, my hand squeezing the envelope he'd brought as I watched him retreat, his tense shoulders carrying the weight of the unspoken words between us.

The night air was cool, almost chilly, signaling the approaching winter. I sighed, trying to focus my gaze — a bit of a challenge after downing as many free beers as I could at the show. I touched my nose with my fingertips; it was cold, just like my cheeks. Maybe I should've brought my jacket, but I knew once we hit the post-show party, my cold would fade amidst the drinks and the buzz of the celebration.

A cozy warmth enveloped me as a leather jacket landed on my shoulders. Lifting my eyes, I met the familiar blue of James' eyes. He gave me a smile, almost like an apology, before saying, "You looked cold."

"Just a bit. Have you finished loading all the stuff?"

He nodded absentmindedly. I glanced around, checking the stage to make sure the band hadn't left anything behind — even picks or a cable would cost money to replace if lost. The venue felt almost eerie, all empty after the crowd had cleared out. I grinned when Cliff showed up, emerging from backstage.

"Hey, ready to roll?" he asked. "We've got to drop stuff off at Mike's place first, then catch up with Kirk and Lars at... What's her name again?"

"Pat," I reminded him.

Pat couldn't make it to the show that night because she was gearing up for a weekend party while her dad was out of town. But she made me swear that I'd bring the band after the gig. I knew deep down she was all about getting James to swing by — ever since he popped up at the record store, she couldn't shut up about him. Lars and Kirk were already en route, but James, Cliff, and I hung back to handle the logistics before wrapping up the night.

"Let's roll, then," Cliff said, and James and I followed him to the parking lot. We ran into a small group of fans, around five people who had decided to wait for the band's exit. James seemed a bit more introverted that night, so he and I leaned against Cliff's car while my cousin chatted with the guys.

"You know, I'm not really feeling the whole party thing tonight," James chimed in, his gaze wandering as Cliff signed a Kill 'Em All booklet. He shot me a look from the corner of his eye, a faint smile playing on his lips. "We could ditch. Do something more interesting."

"More interesting? Like what?" I laughed, shaking my head. At that moment, we were both a bit buzzed, the beer helping us forget the tensions of the past few days. Words flowed easier, and smiles came more naturally. It had been a killer show, with a hyped-up audience and a chill vibe among the guys, adding to James' good mood. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"You know, I've always wanted to check out the strip clubs here in LA…"

"James!" I laughed, and he joined in, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

That move, once so natural, got my heart racing, and my face suddenly heated up at the closeness. His jacket wrapped around me carried his scent, and his rough fingers lingered on my waist for a beat. If I were a bit more sober, maybe anxiety would make me want to pull away. However, in that moment, I allowed myself to be just a bit close to him. We were friends, after all, right?

"Come on, you two," Cliff grumbled before popping open the car door and settling into the driver's seat.

"I'm calling shotgun!" I rushed, swinging open the front passenger door. I let out a surprised yelp when James grabbed my wrist.

"You always do that. Tonight’s my turn," he said, his eyes sparkling, clearly just doing it to mess with me. I furrowed my brow.

"Hey, Cliff's my cousin! I have a right to the front seat, okay? Besides, you always shove the seat way back because of those massive legs of yours."

"You could sit on my lap. Then we could both be up front," he suggested with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes, my face warming.

"Dream on, Hetfield," I grumbled, giving him a playful shove. He laughed but settled into the back while I claimed the seat next to Cliff.

We cruised by Mike's house, where the guys were crashing in Los Angeles. Then, we made our way to Pat's place. I'd been there a couple of times before — a cute two-story wooden house, painted white with a backyard big enough to host a decent-sized crowd. When we rolled up, it was clear that this wasn't just a "few people" gathering: the joint was packed, with muted music wafting from the living room as folks shuffled around with smokes and red cups.

"Your friend knows how to throw a party, huh?" Cliff remarked, a cigarette dangling between his teeth.

"Hey, I bet Lars and Kirk are already super wasted," James exclaimed, chuckling softly, his slightly flushed face giving away that he, too, wasn't entirely sober.

"I wonder if Lars has already pulled a 'no clothes' move like that one time," I said with a giggle. Cliff rolled his eyes.

"You two aren't doing much better, you dorks."

"Shut up, Cliff." I stuck my tongue out at him, and James laughed before adding:

"Hey, last one in is a loser!" He sprinted toward the entrance of Pat's house, and I let out an indignant yelp before chasing after him. I could hear Cliff grumbling something about "drunk idiots" behind me, but he didn't run — it would take much more than a beer-fueled challenge to disrupt Cliff's own pace.

James beat me there, no surprise. He spun around, mischief in his eyes, and opened his arms just in time to halt my collision course. The beer I'd been nursing all night made it tricky to put the brakes on my run. I let out a surprised yelp as he caught me in his arms, a low laugh escaping him. I joined in, trying to catch my breath.

"See, that's why I don't smoke as much as you do. Can't even handle a little run," he teased, laughing, and I rolled my eyes.

We untangled, still chuckling as we trailed after Cliff into Pat's house. I scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces, a grin stuck on my face as I tried to catch my breath, my heartbeat still racing in my chest.

It didn't take us long to spot someone familiar; soon enough, I spotted Pat, chilling by the record player with a beer, deep in conversation with two girls who could practically be twins. She briefly glanced towards the entrance but didn't seem to notice me. Her eyes lit up, and she hustled over.

"James! So stoked you made it," she exclaimed, grabbing onto one of his arms. He raised his eyebrows, looking surprised. My face suddenly heated up, and all the good vibes I had been riding on disappeared. Pat's entrance seemed to pop the bubble of fun and ease that had been with us all night. Now, the old anxiety and discomfort were sneaking back into my chest, even though I couldn't quite figure out why. "I want you to meet Josie and Mary; they're my cousins."

"Uh, let me just..." he started, his eyes glancing nervously toward me. I noticed Cliff observing the whole thing, raising an eyebrow with a barely hidden ironic look on his face. James's eyes met mine briefly before I sighed and turned, navigating through the crowd until I hit the kitchen. There, I found Kirk and Lars, talking and laughing quietly while sharing a bottle of whiskey.

"Hey, Nore!" Lars exclaimed with excitement when he spotted me. "You finally made it! Where are Cliff and James?"

"Somewhere," I dodged, leaning against the kitchen counter near them and nodding towards the whiskey bottle. "Where'd you guys snag this?"

"Oh, your friend's dad has an awesome stash of booze in the living room cabinet. She said we couldn't touch it, but..." Lars trailed off, and Kirk chuckled. "It was too tempting to resist, so we swiped this when she got distracted."

"Man, you guys are jerks. Hook me up?" I asked. Kirk turned with a grin.

"Wait, you're not gonna scold us and tell us to put it back?"

"Why would I do that? Come on, give me a bit." I grabbed the bottle from Lars, taking a hefty swig that set my throat on fire and brought tears to my eyes. Lars let out an enthusiastic "that's the spirit!" making me laugh quietly. I risked a second sip before passing the bottle back to Kirk.

We killed that whiskey bottle until it was history. Staring at the empty thing weirdly satisfied me, even though I knew I'd pay for it with a head that felt like it had its own little earthquake, signaling a solid hangover for tomorrow. I left Kirk and Lars talking and made my way to the backyard, surprisingly empty. The cool night air did wonders to ease the heat that had claimed my skin. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and savored the fresh air, a welcome escape from the packed and stuffy vibes inside.

"Found you," James' familiar voice chimed in. I opened my eyes and spotted him, leaning against the open door that led to the kitchen. His gaze seemed worried, irritating me a bit, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

"Found indeed. Congratulations," I quipped, aiming for humor but sounding more bitter than intended. My words stumbled out, tangled in the effects of the alcohol. He frowned, looking hurt by my words, which made my heart squeeze. I let out a sigh as he approached.

"You’re confusing me," he murmured, the words sounding almost unsure, like he was tiptoeing on shaky ground, unsure of what might happen if he said too much.

My face warmed up, heart skipping a beat and a hollow feeling settling in my stomach. There it was again: that awkwardness, foreign and sharp, like a dagger poking into my guts. Months before, none of this would've happened between us. Months before, I would never feel anxious or insecure around him. I would never have a million butterflies fluttering in my stomach when his troubled gaze sought mine. All I wanted was to give him a hug, take away whatever was bothering him. But it felt like I couldn't take that step. Like anything I did would just mess up whatever was left between us.

"I don't want to confuse you," I managed to murmur, my voice trembling a bit. He sighed, ran a hand through his blond hair, getting even closer.

"When that shit went down at Leanne's party, I... I figured you were done with me. Thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore. Like, didn't even want to be friends. I thought I'd crossed a line I shouldn't have. And yet..." He paused, twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. "I don't regret it, Nore."

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, my heart racing, my voice barely more than a whisper. He let out a low, almost embarrassed laugh, then brought the tips of his fingers to my chin, lifting it so our gazes met.

"When you told Pat to come talk to me, I thought you didn't care. But now, every time you see me with her, you get upset. You think I don't notice?"

"I don't get upset," I shot back, my face on fire. Sure, sometimes I felt a bit weird with Pat around, but that didn't mean anything, right? Nothing special about envying how confidently she could approach James, nothing special about not liking how, even though he seemed clearly confused by her interest, he wasn't exactly putting up much of a fight. Nothing special about not liking how they'd gone out together without telling me. How they seemed to be getting closer every day.

"Nore," James called my name, snapping me out of my momentary daze. I lifted my eyes, my lips parting a bit, my face flushed as he got even closer, resting his hands on the balcony railing around me. "If you don't want me to go out with her, you can tell me. You can always tell me whatever you want. I'd never do anything to upset you."

"Why?" I murmured, and he sighed, the agony creeping back into his eyes like nasty poison.

"Because I'm in..." he started, then halted, biting his lip and looking away. I looked away too, my breath going out of rhythm, my face burning under the weight of his unfinished confession. I knew if he finished that sentence, there would be no going back. No more avoiding the whirlwind of feelings that had been growing in my chest, ignored for so long, becoming more and more impossible to shove aside.

I knew it then, with a heart-wrenching certainty: if he said he loved me, right there, right then, I'd be caught, unable to deny that I felt the same.

"I gotta go," I said, giving him a gentle push by placing my hand on his chest. But he snagged my hand, fingers weaving into mine, putting the brakes on my escape.

I couldn't stand this.

I let out a shaky sigh as he traced the outline of my lower lip with his thumb, edging even closer, holding my face in his hand. His other hand found its place on my waist, and I felt my back meet the wall behind me as he closed the gap. Forehead pressed against mine, his gaze focused and serious. My thoughts raced as fast as my heart, trying to focus, wrestling against my intoxication. This ain't right, I thought, but I didn't have the guts to shove him away.

We jumped apart when the kitchen door swung open, and Lars and Kirk rolled out. James let out a disappointed sigh as I fumbled clumsily for my cigarettes, trying to hide the redness in my cheeks as they approached.

"There you are!" Lars said with a grin, then glanced at James. "Your girl's on the hunt for you, dude."

"We were just..." James cleared his throat, his face a bit flushed as he ruffled his blond hair. "We were just catching a smoke. And she's not my girl, Lars."

"Actually, I'm outta here," I chimed in, trying to ignore the disappointed look on James's face. "Can you tell Cliff I’m bailing? I'll dial up a taxi."

"What, already?" Lars asked, his words a bit slurred from the booze. Kirk shot a quick look between me and James, his eyebrows rising in curiosity.

"Yeah, I... I'm not feeling great. But it's nothing major; just need some sleep."

"At least let me take you home," James suggested. I glanced at him, my heart picking up speed, a sudden frustration bubbling up. This wasn't right. He was my friend. Things between us were supposed to be easy, and he was messing it all up!

"No need. Go back to your girl; she's waiting for you," I shot back, my tone sharper than I meant. He looked at me, eyes hurt like I'd just shoved a knife deep into his chest.

"Fine, whatever," he grumbled and headed back inside the house.

"Not in a good mood today, huh?" Lars remarked, raising an eyebrow. I huffed.

"Everything cool, Nore?" Kirk asked, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm cool. Just need to bounce, guys, really," I said defensively.

Turned out, no taxi was needed; Cliff offered me a ride the moment he heard I wasn't feeling too well. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, the good vibes from the start of the night totally evaporated as I watched the streets of LA zoom by the window.

"So, regretting it already?" Cliff dropped out of nowhere. I shot him a look, furrowing my brow.

"Cliff, what..."

"You know exactly what I mean, Nore," he cut me off, and I rolled my eyes.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Cliff didn't push for small talk, and I wasn't feeling chatty either. Honestly, I was more confused than I'd been since leaving my parents' place. I tried convincing myself that things could stay the same with James. We could brush off the kiss, chalk it up to booze and longing, just some unfortunate incident. Nothing altered. He and I would stay tight, and nothing would faze us.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

At some point since he had kissed me, things had changed. Or maybe I just couldn't ignore something that had been there for a long time.

That James loved me.

And that I couldn't say I didn't feel the same.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777

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